Free Miracle by Deborah Smith

video-game token someone had passed off as a quarter. Holding out a hand for his scrutiny, she deftly rolled the token over her fingers and then made it disappear. She swooped her hand forward to his shirt collar and drew it back holding two tokens. “Want to play Space Invaders?”
    His serious expression softened immediately. To her utter delight he laughed—a beautiful, masculine sound that made her quiver inside. “What else can you do?”
    “I can do card tricks, and juggle, and make balloon animals. Pop taught me how, so I could help him at kiddie parties.” Inspired by his attention, she flipped the token and caught it on the tip of one finger. “It’s easy stuff.”
    “I can’t imagine such skill coming
easily
. Teach me.” He leaned forward eagerly and held out his hand.
    Amy placed the token on his fingers and then, cupping his hand in both of hers, showed him how to maneuver it. He bent his head close to hers and she thought her heart would stop. Dazed, she knew only that touching him created an obsession to touch him all over.
    They sat there for nearly an hour, their conversation low and private and laced with laughter, the tokens becoming graceful in his hands as she showed him how to make them obey. Pop came back from lunch and stared at them approvingly, then went into his rat-juggler voice and told her, “Come along, luv, n’ leave the young lord to his business.”
    Dr. de Savin became brusque and reserved again. “You haven’t eaten yet,” he noted, gazing at her untouched food.
    “Neither have you. Here. Take mine. I’m not hungry.”
    “No. I have to get back to Atlanta. I’m on duty at the hospital tonight. I told the people I’m with that I’d meet them at the gate after lunch.” He stood and held out a hand. Amy took it, and he helped her to her feet.
    “Anytime you want help with your magic tricks, you can find me at the winery,” she said, trying not to sound too desperate. “Here. Take this video token so that you can practice.” She brought it to her lips with a flourish and kissed it. “I give it my magic blessing. It won’t let you down.”
    He took the token solemnly. “Thank you.”
    She looked into his eyes and forgot shyness. For the first time she studied them long enough to know that they were golden brown with black rims. The brows over them were dramatic wings. His eyes were very private, but startling in the depth of emotion they could express. Right now they were somber, almost sad. He stepped closer to her and murmured, “You have a way of making a person feel happy. It’s a very great talent, and one that you should cherish.
Adieu.
”
    Amy watched him leave.
I love you
, she thought with the deep, perfect conviction of a lost soul who had finally found the way home.

S ebastien thought about Amy Miracle often over the next few days, remembering her charm when she performed with her father and growing increasingly suspicious that her father was responsible for draining every bit of her self-confidence. The girl’s natural ability as a performer was obvious; her appealing, comical voice and gamine face could make a stone wall laugh.
    After his rounds one day Sebastien took the token she had given him—he had tucked it in a compartment of his wallet like a good luck piece—and returned to Tom’s cubicle. Propped up on pillows and surrounded by medical equipment, the boy looked forlorn. But his eyes widened with curiosity when Sebastien pulled a chair to his bedside and sat down. “More stories?” Tom whispered eagerly.
    “Look.” Sebastien held the video token in front of him, passed a hand over it, then presented both hands to Tom to show that the token had disappeared. “Magic.”
    “Neat!”
    “I learned this trick from a girl who plays with rats,” Sebastien told him solemnly.
    “Oh, bullshit.”
    “Such language! I think we’ll have to give you a new tongue as well as a new heart.”
    Tom giggled a little, the sound barely audible.